Drowning in Denial
by GatesThistle
Summary: and Jean better learn how to swim. (Lame college AU in which Eren tries to be seductive and Jean refuses to believe it.)


"Oh wow, you are so into him," Marco said with wonder. "When did that happen?"

Jean spluttered in shock. "What? No, I'm not… _What_?"

In the limited view the screen allowed, Jean saw Marco shrug. "Just, how you were talking about him just then. I know you really well Jean, and I know how you act when you like someone. You're into him."

"I'm _not_. Where the fuck did you get that idea. What about you? Are there any cute guys over there in Italy?"

"Jean," Marco said calmly. "Don't change the subject. And I was on the receiving end of your affections for four years. I think I know what they look like."

"_Exactly_," Jean insisted. "_You_. _You_ are my type. I like beautiful, _kind_, compassionate, capable people who in general have their shit together. Like you. And Mikasa. Decidedly not like Eren Jaeger."

Marco sighed. "Eren is kind and compassionate and beautiful. You know he is," Marco rose his voice over Jean's protestations. "And he may not be as capable as Mikasa, but neither was I. I don't think anyone is. And let's face it. We're in college. Not many people have their shit together. You included."

"That doesn't change the fact that I am not into Jaeger," he grumbled. "You've seen how we interact. We fight all the time. We don't even get along. And that is not how I show affection. I'm super affectionate, all the time."

"True, but what you also are, is awkward as hell," Marco countered. "Yes, you are very affectionate, almost doting, but the beginning of a relationship has never been your strong point. Remember when you asked Mikasa out?"

"Yes and there is no need to relive it," Jean interjected quickly.

Marco laughed. "And when you asked me out the only reason it went any better is because I liked you too much to be offended."

Jean was very obviously blushing, and Marco smiled kindly.

"I've got to go, it's two AM here and I do have school tomorrow you know."

"Of course," Jean said. "Good night."

"I'll see you later Jean," Marco said. "Think about what I said."

Jean hung up on him.

###

Unfortunately, Jean did think about it. At great length and at awful times, like when Eren leaned in a little too close to ask for a pencil in their anthropology class, or when he had actually smiled while handing Jean his Americano at the coffeeshop that had quickly become their group's primary hangout since both Sasha and Eren worked there, and were fully willing to abuse their employee discount.

Okay, so Eren _was_ attractive. No one was denying this. He just wasn't Jean's type, as he had told Marco clearly. End of story.

Only it _wasn't_, because the thought stayed there for weeks, no matter how sure he was that he was in no uncertain terms not attracted to Eren Jaeger, it would not leave. He quickly learned how to live with it, how to stop obsessing over what had given Marco that impression and why. And he became very good at ignoring it.

Until that Friday night.

###

Jean slouched awkwardly against the wall, holding a beer he would most likely never finish. Spending summers in France with his grandparents had quickly made him an alcohol snob, which now meant it was nearly impossible to get drunk on shitty alcohol provided at these frat parties. He couldn't bring himself to drink poorly mixed drinks and awful beer in large enough quantity, so the only way he was getting drunk at all were shots, which in practice were rather unhygienic.

While watching his friends drunk was entertaining, he was in need of a drink or five tonight.

He chatted amiably with a very friendly drunk guy at the shots table. The conversation wasn't particularly intelligent and Jean had a feeling he would have to be much more drunk to appreciate it fully, so he took a few shots to be polite, and then a few more because he liked the mild burn at the back of his throat.

"You're _real, _man, you know?" the guy said, and was promptly distracted by one of his frat bros falling down and causing quite the commotion on the dance floor.

Jean took this opportunity to wander off and further explore the house. He found the room that was apparently reserved for hookups, and quickly retreated. He found another room where a bunch of drunk kids were having the kind of conversation that feels deep when intoxicated but in reality comprised of a lot of phrases such as "like" and "you know".

It was exactly what Jean did while drunk.

He spent a good amount of time there, talking about anthropology and philosophy, which comprised his list of useless majors, and somehow the topic of his sexuality came up.

"Wait. So you like both?"

"Yes, essentially. I said I was bi. Well, more than two, but pretty much yeah."

"Wait, what?"

"Bi doesn't necessarily mean I only like two genders. People are great, you know. Like. I already don't care what's under your belt, man, so like why should it really matter what gender you are you know? If you're hot you're hot, right?"

He generally made a point not to talk about his sexuality while drunk. It was complicated and he generally devolved in eloquence, and he always ended up surrounded by a bunch of straight kids nodding and being like "yeah man, fuck labels, man."

He looked around. All the drunk kids around him were nodding, and some chick to his right said "Fuck labels, right?"

He smiled weakly. "Wanna dance?"

Frat parties did kind of suck as far as options went. There were never that many not straight guys, and almost never any guys up for a night of experimentation, and those who were, Reiner always seemed to manage to find first. So that left the girls, which Jean was fine with, as he had just so eloquently told a room full of straight people.

So that was how he ended up pressed up against her on the dance floor, just drunk enough to feel awesome and to crave human contact, but not enough to lose coordination.

He buried his face in her hair and in smelled like sweat and mango, which he figured smelled way better than it sounded in his head.

She reached up and tangled the fingers in his hair, mussing the artful disarray on which he had spent more time than he was willing to admit. Using this she pulled his head to the side where his unsuspecting mouth met the bare skin of her neck. Pleased with this development, he moved said mouth gently up and down her neck, spending a long second at the corner of her jaw just below her ear.

Faster than his slightly inebriated brain could process she had him pinned against the nearest wall, and her tongue was sliding against his. He reached his hands up to rest them at her waist and pushed back against her.

For a few perfect sloppy minutes, they pressed together in every conceivable way to maintain contact. She pulled away first, and, still relatively drunk, Jean stayed where he was, using the wall as a convenient support for his suddenly boneless form, until she grasped his wrist and pulled him after her in the pulsating crowd. As they navigated the crowd, nearly separated several times, Jean suddenly met a pair of familiar attention grabbing eye, and stopped in his steps, suddenly captivated by the sight between the press of bodies around him. He barely noticed the hand on his wrist slip away, and his arm dropped limply to his side. Across the room, Eren's electric eyes, shining with the effects of alcohol and from the ministrations of the man who currently had his mouth on Eren's neck and Eren's legs wrapped around his waist. And Eren's eyes were directly on Jean, who was frozen, eyes comically wide.

Eren grinned, and broke eye contact to very deliberately throw his head back and arched against the man between his legs. Jean could see the man's fingers tighten, gripping Eren's thighs harder. Jean felt Eren's eyes on him again. Eren made sure Jean was watching him before he pulled the man into a kiss that got very deep very quickly.

It broke Jean out of some kind of trance and he quickly retreated to the shots room, finding he was sobering up rather quickly.

That was where Sasha found him, insistently pulling him back onto the dance floor.

She set an energetic enough pace that, with the help of another shot of vodka, he could ignore the events earlier, and in turn he kept creepy guys at bay. It was an excellent way to spend the rest of the night, until the party had reached the stage where the only people left were those who lived there and the couples spread around the room who were clearly going home together that night.

Sasha and Jean met up with Ymir, Krista and Mikasa.

"Where's everyone else?" Mikasa asked, probably the most sober person there.

"Annie and Berthold left early," Krista said, leaning heavily on Ymir.

"And Reiner texted me twenty minutes ago saying he wasn't going back with us," Ymir supplied, with an exaggerated wink.

"And Eren?" Mikasa asked calmly.

"Present," Eren called, thankfully showing up before Mikasa panicked. He looked awful. Or great. It was becoming difficult for Jean to tell the difference.

His hair was every which way, he smelled strongly of vodka and there was a quickly forming hickey on the right side of his neck, which Mikasa flicked disapprovingly. Eren flinched, rubbing it, and frowned at her.

"The fuck, Mikasa?"

She ignored him. "Jean, how sober are you?"

Jean shrugged. "Relatively."

She nodded. "You take Sasha and Eren home. Sasha's dorm is on your way, and you and Eren live in the same building. I'll take Ymir and Krista."

Jean nodded. It made sense. Ymir and Mikasa were roommates and Krista practically lived with them anyway. Mikasa was sober, and even if she weren't, she was a high functioning drunk. This made her a fantastic partner in beer pong because she had impeccable aim no matter how drunk she got. Jean was a good second drunk wrangler as he sobered up very quickly.

They parted ways out front, Mikasa probably cursing the random housing assignment that had not placed her and Eren in the same building.

Jean put his arm around Sasha to keep her steady, and almost did the same to Eren, but couldn't bring himself to.

They followed Sasha all the way to her door, making sure she got in alright before continuing on to their own.

"You know you don't have to follow me to my room too," Eren said.

Jean snorted. "Mikasa entrusted you to me, if you think I am taking any chances you are dead wrong. I like my body parts attached to me in all the right places, thank you very much."

Eren rolled his eyes, and stopped outside his door. Suddenly his eyes lit up. "Oh yeah, Reiner went home with some guy, that means I get the room to myself tonight."

Jean groaned internally. That meant he would have to deal with his own roommate pining over his childhood friend. Again.

So distracted by his oncoming fate of being a shoulder to cry on, he didn't notice how close Eren was getting until there were mere millimeters between their chests. "Um."

"You know, Mikasa did entrust me to you, don't you think you should see it through? I could die in the night and she would blame you." Eren's eyes had gone half lidded, and there was nowhere for Jean to retreat in such a narrow hallway. "To be safe, you should probably stay the night."

There was a tight knot in Jean's stomach that was only getting worse as Eren got closer. Eren was shorter than him but currently seemed to take up the entire hall with a casual smirk and hooded eyes and his, admittedly, broader shoulders leaving Jean feeling boxed in. The vodka must still be affecting him more than he had previously thought because something low in his gut wrenched and heated up as his back hit the wall, and for one hot minute he allowed himself to entertain the idea. They were both still worked up from alcohol and dirty kissing and Eren's empty room was right there, and Eren was getting impossibly closer, leaning upwards just a little bit.

"Uh," Jean said eloquently and ran.

Admittedly not his proudest moment.

Leaning heavily on the wall outside his door he sent Marco a text.

_Heeeelllpppp. I think Jaeger's trying to seduce me._

Later, as Jean was patting on a heartbroken Berthold's back, he got a response.

_? and why are you texting me instead of taking full advantage of that fact?_

Jean rolled his eyes. He sent a reply before turning off his phone and putting Berthold to bed, and trying to sleep himself.

_For the last time: I'm not interested in Eren fucking Jaeger_.

###

Jean was beginning to think that statistics had the same effect on his brain that alcohol did.

He had been sitting, staring at the same page in his textbook for the past three hours and still not comprehending. He finally resorted to listlessly stirring his coffee and staring at Eren.

_Which was exactly why stats was comparable to intoxication_.

There was no other reason he would be so interested in watching Jaeger wipe down counters and smile affably at customers. Though even watching Jaeger was better than destroying his brain any more than he already had with his stats homework.

It was almost a wonder that Eren was capable of working service. _Eren_, who had all the social graces of a rabid squirrel when faced with a slight inconvenience, could make it through a whole shift without committing homicide, even from the slowest to the cruelest customers.

Jean briefly considered trying the problem that was soundly fucking him over once again, but his brief motivation fizzled out as Eren bent over to wipe down the same fucking table right in front of Jean. Jean felt his chin slide from his hand and next thing he knew his nose was buried in between formulas.

He heard a snort from above him. "What the fuck are you doing, Kirschtien?'

His sleep deprived brain cycled through several clever responses ranging from "your mom" (a huge faux pas with Jaeger as Jean had learned early in their questionable friendship) to "your face" (which would have revealed more than Jean was willing to at that moment) and finally settled for desperate.

"Trying to absorb as much of this as I can, since actually reading the book isn't doing it for me." It came out much more pathetic than he had been intending.

Suddenly the book too was torn from under him and his cheek smacked unpleasantly into the table. "Ow," he said more out of indignation than actual pain.

"Sorry," Eren replied, sounding distinctly unapologetic as he scanned the page that had utterly scrambled Jean's brain with the kind of determined light that he got when faced with literally any challenge.

Jean sighed when Eren sat down, taking the notebook in which Jean had been doing and erasing and doing the problem again. "Aren't you at work? Shouldn't you be working? Did you ever even take stats?"

All of these questions were ignored as Eren feverishly scribbled on the abused page.

Jean found himself staring again. Time had calmed Eren. His temper in middle and high school had been uncontrollable, and his utter inability to back down from any challenge had garnered him many injuries and Jean had delighted in distributing both. With age, he gained more control and direction, and it was fascinating to watch the sheer pigheadedness of childhood turn into a pointed determination.

"Dumbass," Eren said amiably, giving the book back to Jean, with the problem completed.

"Oh," was all that Jean could manage to say.

###

"That one," Sasha said, mouth full and gesturing with the hand that had half a pastry in it.

"Nice choice," Jean said, and curled further around his hot coffee. It was still cold outside despite claims of spring.

They browsed the crowd of students passing in a midmorning daze in silence for a minute.

"Oh," Jean piped up. "There's one.'

Sasha made a noise of agreement, as her mouth was once again, full.

They both had an hour break from ten to eleven before heading back to class, so they of course spent it with coffee and pointing out nice butts to each other.

Sasha was someone he needed in his life.

Even with the friends he had, the world could sometimes be overwhelmingly heterosexual. If he was feeling overwhelmed he could always go talk it out with several of them, but even then, he became overwhelmed by monosexuality, and would always come back to Sasha, the only other bisexual he was that close to.

Someone who actually seemed to get it.

"Marco seems to think I'm hot for Jaeger," Jean said out of the blue, passively observing an ass that, apparently belonged to what could only be a professor.

"I wonder what gave him that idea," Sasha said playfully. Jean flicked her nose. "Ow. Oh, look at that one."

"I was just about to point that one out," Jean pouted as the probably-a-professor ambled away.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Hot for Jaeger?"

"No. NO, why would you ask?"

Sasha shrugged, reaching into her bag for a second pastry. "A lot of sexual tension."

"That's just regular tension, Sash."

"Sure." She sounded distinctly unconvinced.

Jean pouted and returned his gaze to the students passing by.

His eyes alighted on a distraction, and he nudged Sasha to point out the latest ogling opportunity, currently bending over to tie his shoe in their line of sight

Sasha was about to open her mouth to acknowledge or reply when the object of their observation stood up, turned around and upon seeing them waved at Sasha and made a face in Jean's direction.

Sasha choked on her mouthful of pastry and Jean felt his heart sink.

He glared at Sasha before she could recover from choking and said grimly.

"Not one word."

###

They were sitting in anthropology, learning about some prehistoric ancestor to man or another, Jean wasn't really paying attention. They were occupying the very back, playing tic tac toe, talking and very occasionally taking notes.

Tic tac toe was very quickly becoming boring, every match ending in a stalemate. Jean hadn't been able to win or lose tic tac toe since he was eight years old. Everyone knew the tricks by now.

Of course this didn't mean that Eren wasn't roaring to beat him. Jean was almost tempted to let him win just to get rid of that manic look in his eye. Almost.

Really though, it probably wasn't healthy to get one's blood pressure so high over a stupid game.

"You're probably gonna die of a heart attack at a young age," Jean told him and a vein throbbed in Eren's forehead as Jean took the corner spot he'd been going for, effectively blocking any possible win.

Eren scowled at him. "Fuck you. You're probably gonna die doing something unbelievably stupid. Like jaywalking, or sticking your knife in the toaster to get your fucking bagel."

Jean frowned at him, aggressively drawing out a new board. "Your face is a bagel," he muttered, drawing an O in the center spot.

Eren rolled his eyes, probably knowing he'd won that one, and immediately scrawled an X in one of the corners.

Jean sighed heavily. "Eren this is boring. Literally no one loses tic tac toe."

The manic glint was back. "Armin beats everyone at tic tac toe."

"Of course he does," Jean muttered, blocking off Eren's three across.

Eren's scowl deepened. "Fine if you're bored we can talk about more interesting things while I kick your ass."

"There is a distinct lack of ass kicking going on right now, Jaeger."

"Stuff it Kirschtien, you bored or what?"

"Bored as all hell."

"Okay," Eren paused for a minute, finishing the game with yet another stale mate. He glanced up at Jean from under thick lashes as he drew out a new board on the page now littered with them. "Which professor would you fuck, Kirchstien?"

Jean paused. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it, made up his mind too, but this line of conversation was not the kind of thing Eren brought up, especially with Jean.

Jean glanced to the front of the giant auditorium where their professor was strutting about, back straight and eyes authoritative.

He inclined his head toward the front. "I'd fuck Erwin, obviously."

Eren cocked his head. "That's your type?"

"Pretty sure he's everyone's type," Jean replied.

"Fair enough," Eren said, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed Erwin's form fitting slacks.

"Yeah," Jean said, probably a little too dreamily, judging from the look Eren was giving him. He coughed and brought the conversation back on track. "You?"

Eren stretched in his seat, a smug look on his face, his soft looking green shirt tightening around his chest as it rode up just enough to show perfect contours of sharp hipbones.

Jean felt his mouth go dry, and forced himself to look back at the front of the room.

Tight slacks covering a military grade ass didn't seem the same anymore.

"Does a TA count?" Eren asked.

"What?" Jean asked, genuinely lost in the conversation.

"Would it count if I fucked a TA already?"

There was a long moment of silence as Jean's hipbone addled brain struggled to catch up. "Did you?"

Eren nodded, his almost never seen, mind blowing smirk out in full force.

Jean's jaw dropped. "From this class?" Jean whipped his head to the front row where one of the TA's was poking the other with a pencil. "Which one? Shorty McPissface or the actually fun one?"

Eren rolled his eyes. "You know he's hot."

"Oh my god you slept with Shorty McPissface. That is so illegal. At least Glasses von Crazybutt is _fun_. They would have been _worth it_. They don't nearly castrate me after not properly cleaning the lab table."

The smirk was still there and Eren hadn't brought his arms down from where he stretched them behind his head, and it was _doing things_ to Jean's brain that he couldn't handle after that revelation. Eren tilted his head to face Jean. "Trust me Kirschtien, it was worth it."

His voice had gone lower than Jean had ever heard it and just a little bit rough, and Jean's mouth was dry again and maybe he should start hydrating properly and his chest tightened and god he really should stop smoking because those impossibly colored, intense eyes were lidded and on him and he suddenly couldn't breathe.

_Shit_.

###

"Shit?"

"_Shit, _Marco, _shit_," Jean practically wailed. "You were right you were so right."

"I generally am?"

"Always. I want him and this is the worst."

Marco let out a small sound of understanding. "Ohhh, this is about Eren."

Jean groaned louder, burying his face in his hands. He heard Marco's laugh made tinny by his shitty computer speakers.

"This is great!"

"No, this is awful," Jean said darkly.

"Why? You finally realize you want to jump him, next time he comes onto you so strongly you take him up on it, then you go from there."

"No Marco, there's no way he's attracted to me," Jean babbled. "He's fucking with me, he _knows_ what he's doing, and he's probably just laughing it off and going off to fuck that small, angry TA."

"Eren's sleeping with a TA?" Marco sounded only mildly scandalized.

"YES. Probably. I don't know. Point is he likes short, clean fucking nerds"

"Look, Jean," Marco started gently. "Listen to this knowing I love you and you were a great boyfriend."

"Oh no."

"But you have a habit of sabotaging yourself when it comes to romantic potential."

"Hey!"

"You know I love you. I've been your best friend for so long, Jean, I've seen it happen a lot. You'd been in love with me forever before you asked me out."

"You knew about that?"

"I know you. I know about every other crush you've ever had, I know that the instant you become interested in someone your insecurities take over, and no matter what they do nothing will convince you that they actually like you."

"They usually _don't_."

"I'm sorry Jean but that's bullshit. I fell in love with you."

"What about Mikasa?"

"She's one person, it was in middle school. You were way more awkward in middle school. Also, if it makes you feel better she's turned down pretty much everyone. The point is you don't think anyone you like could like you. Which is just not true."

"Oh. Um. Oh." Jean found himself unable to respond to the sudden truth bomb.

"I know me just telling you won't convince you, but you should know."

"Thanks Marco." Jean rubbed a hand down his face. "It's fucking late here, call you tomorrow?"

"Of course Jean, good night."

###

This was driving him insane.

Shorty showed no hints of anything, but Eren had no such skill and Jean had to deal with sitting next to him all two hours of their lab, with Eren shooting puppy eyes at their aloof TA.

And Glasses kept giving Jean these looks like they knew everything.

It was an uncomfortable two hours that ended in Shorty glaring at Jean as he left, most likely because he half assed the sterilization after they put away the skulls they had been identifying in the lab.

The man clearly had his priorities out of order. Here he was glaring at Jean when Eren's fantastic ass was right next to him. Insane. Apparently Eren was into that.

If only Eren found his particular neuroses as attractive.

And Eren was looking at him.

"What?"

"What crawled up your ass and died, Kirschtien?"

"I'm _fine, _asshole."

"You look like you would break if I just…" Eren reached out and pushed down lightly on Jean's shoulder. Jean flinched away violently and Eren laughed a little. "See? You're tense. What's up?"

"Nothing! I'm just stressed."

Eren did not look convinced. "Just let me know if you need any help with that," Eren said, voice suddenly gone a little throaty.

Jean opened his mouth to say something probably very cutting, but just as he did, he felt the hand recently hovering just above his shoulder slide purposefully down his spine and any words died in his throat.

Eren smiled at him, actually smiled at him, not the knee weakening smirk he'd been flashing Jean for weeks, but something real and gorgeous, and the ridiculously warm hand was still resting on his hip.

Jean thought about what Marco said. There was no way to misinterpret this.

So he opened his mouth to say something, hopefully not something too antagonistic or stupid. Anything at this point, just something to keep Eren looking at him like that.

He felt something tighten in the pit of his stomach.

It died almost immediately when he saw Eren glance to the side, towards the still open classroom door. Jean followed his gaze and met the hooded eyes of their TA.

His internal organs all felt cold and heavy.

"Yeah I'll be sure to do that," Jean said coldly, pulling away and practically running toward the exit.

###

_From Connie: sash is worried bout you. stress or someth. sooo you should come get very very stoned with us tomorrow. never takes much to fuck you up anyway dude_

Jean groaned and dropped his face on his bed. So of course Sasha noticed and even Connie was worried and extending in the only way he knew how: mild drugs.

_To Connie: Fuck you man. I'll be there._

_From Connie:_ _not a bad thing to be a lightweight yo_

It was very true however. Alcohol was one thing, but weed? Two or three hits and he was down for the count.

But kick backs with Connie and Sasha were great. As a couple of functional stoners they always had a lot of weed and Sasha always made too much food. Also they happened to be two of his favorite people.

He smiled a little bit. This was finally something to look forward to.

###

"Jean, man, good to see you," Connie said, peeking out from behind the door. "Come on in." He started walking back into his house, talking as Jean followed him. "Sasha's in the kitchen and here," he reached back to pass Jean a half gone joint. "Go ahead and finish it off."

Jean deposited it in between his lips and patted Connie on the shoulder. "Good to be here." Connie moved on to the living room where he plopped on the couch and fumbled for the bong laying a few feet away.

At first Jean couldn't find Sasha as he entered the kitchen.

"Um."

A head popped up from practically inside the freezer. "Jean, I'm gonna mix nutella and schnapps."

"That sounds," Jean paused. "Actually pretty great?"

"Right? But I don't think we have schnapps so how about tequila or rum?"

"Those sound terrible, let's do both."

"This is why you're my favorite." She came back from the freezer holding a bottle in each hand.

"I heard that," Connie called from the living room.

"You know I love you babe," Sasha called back. "You always support my culinary endeavors."

They half heard him mumble. "That's because I'm dating a genius."

Sasha opened the cupboard in which an entire shelf was dedicated to rows of Nutella and began pulling them out.

"Find me two of the largest bowls you can find," she ordered.

They were still mixing and tasting when there was another knock at the door. Jean was getting past the point of mildly stoned, and after several spoonsful of spiked nutella that was honestly pretty terrible, he would soon be able to add tipsy to that.

"You didn't mention anyone else," he said, cradling the one with tequila to his chest having claimed it as his own a while back.

"I invited Mikasa and the boys. Armin's fucking great when he's high."

Jean felt his stomach swoop. "All three of them?"

"Yep." Sasha had become very intent on her new project. It looked chocolaty and… eggy? It would probably end up amazing.

While they'd been talking Connie had answered the door, and the group headed toward the kitchen. In a mild fit of panic, holding his chocolate-nut-alcohol monstrosity close, Jean fled to the couch.

He sat there, consuming his monstrosity until he couldn't taste anything. Connie passed by at one point, handing him another half-finished joint like some kind of benevolent pot fairy. Jean wondered what kind of miracles he had wrought in his past lives to deserve friends like Sasha and Connie.

With the last few hits off the joint and most of the tub of spiked Nutella gone, Jean barely felt anything but a mild tingle in his belly when Eren slid next to him on the couch, dipping a long finger into the Nutella and popping it into his mouth.

Jean stared for what was probably an inappropriately long time. Weed really screwed with his perception of time.

Eren's _ridiculously attractive holy shit_ mouth twisted into a grimace, bringing Jean back from whatever alternate time dimension he had been inhabiting in which _Eren_ was _seductive_.

"That is awful what the fuck."

Jean shrugged, pulling it closer to his chest protectively. "It's cool, I can't really feel my tongue anymore anyway."

Eren snorted. "Holy shit you're so stoned already."

Jean gave what he hoped was an unapologetic smirk, sticking another spoonful into his mouth. "You're just jealous."

Eren rolled his eyes. "Yeah you lightweights really have it easy."

Time passed and Jean spent it in a mostly internal, contemplative state, phasing in and out of the conversations surrounding him.

He had ended up on the floor at some point, alcoholic Nutella god knows where. Eren's face was upside down right above him, as he dangled precariously off the couch, back arched in a very uncomfortable looking way. Armin was seated in the corner, giving a dazed looking Connie a very aggressive explanation of quantum physics, peppered with more curse words than he usually used in a year.

From the looks of things, Mikasa and Sasha had never left the kitchen.

Jean tuned in momentarily to catch the tail end of whatever rant Eren was coming off of.

"I'm just saying, Iron Man is clearly the most attractive avenger."

"Ew, what? No," Jean cut in. "Obviously it's Captain America." Eren snorted and Jean continued adamantly. "No, you don't understand I would marry Steve Rodgers in a heartbeat."

"Yeah yeah, should've figured tall, blonde and patriotic was your type, what with how much you ogle Professor Smith in anthro."

"Hey, you do it too. And you apparently have a thing for dark and snarky dicks."

Eren shrugged, which upside down had limited effect. "I like dicks."

Jean snorted unattractively, spluttering helplessly. "That was the gayest thing you have ever said, and you're really fucking gay."

"I'm the one who's ready to propose to Captain America at a moment's notice." Eren's smirk faded into a contemplative look. "No but really, what is your type?"

Jean spluttered again, struggling to compose himself. "I don't know? People like Mikasa," Eren made a half-hearted move to swat at him, but missed by a mile. The anger over Jean's misguided, devastating, crush were long gone at this point, leaving an empty compulsion to go through the motions. "People like Marco. Gorgeous, kind people with killer smiles? People whose names begin with M? I don't know, man."

Eren's eyes were way too intense for someone as high as he was, someone who was currently hanging upside down off a shitty second hand couch. "Come here."

Jean felt his heart stop for a full five seconds. "What."

"Come here, Kirschtien," Eren repeated impatiently.

With a groan, Jean rolled onto his stomach and scooted half a foot closer to the couch, but Eren shook his head.

"Closer."

A little breathless, Jean did so, until his nose was inches from Eren's.

The unholy mixture of tequila, weed and Eren's broad yet delicate hand weaving into the short hairs at the back of his neck was making his head swim.

Painfully slowly, although Jean figured that might be his fucked up perception of time again, Eren pulled him in and down for a full on, Spiderman-style upside down kiss.

Jean froze, suddenly forgetting every single kiss he'd ever had, brain shutting down at the impossibility that Eren Jaeger was kissing him and simultaneously stumped by the mechanics of upside down kissing.

Thankfully, Eren chose that moment to break away and slide fluidly off the couch, settling with his back to it, pulling a still very frozen Jean back to his lips, with a hand cupped at his jaw.

Jean's muscle memory kicked in, while his brain was still AWOL, and began moving his mouth against him, garnering a pleased hum from Eren. Jean slid into his lap, so that his hands were no longer supporting his weight and he could finally, _finally_, bury them into those silky tendrils of hair, and brush them across the smooth slope of Eren's jaw, tracing down his neck to land on his shoulders where they planted themselves, pulling Eren closer.

It was slower than Jean imagined kissing Eren would be. They were slowly, softly feeling it out, the heightened sensations from their altered state of mind making even that almost overwhelming.

Jean's brain finally caught up to the action bringing everything to a grinding halt. He pulled back, still perched in Eren's lap. "Wait. Don't you have some small pissed off TA? You are aware he is not watching, right?"

"Dude, we fucked once," Eren mumbled into his neck. "I was trying to make _you_ jealous, asshole."

"Oh."

Eren hummed in response. "Can we go back to making out now?"

"Fuck yeah," Jean replied, leaning back in to do just that.

They were interrupted by a cough from the doorway, where Mikasa and Sasha stood.

Looking around, having been too wrapped up in Eren for too long, Jean took note of his surroundings. Armin and Connie still sat in the corner, looking scandalized, though with matching attempts at supportive thumbs up. Sasha, who was holding something hot and fluffy with oven mitts had a shit eating grin spread out across her face. There may have even been the hint of an upturn to Mikasa's stoic lips.

"Um," Jean said intelligently, making no move to leave Eren's lap. "Whatcha got there Sasha?"

"Soufflé," she answered, grin never leaving her lips. "Want some?"

###

"He's such an asshole," Jean groaned, letting his face fall onto his bed.

"You are aware you're dating said asshole?"

"Yes, Marco," Jean bit out. "Because clearly I hate myself."

"No but seriously," Marco continued. "How is it going between you two?"

Jean held back a sardonic comment and really thought about the past few weeks. "I don't know, the sex is great," Marco made a small uncomfortable noise. "We fight a lot, but that generally just leads to _really _great angry sex."

"Jean," Marco said warningly.

"And I get even more cheap coffee than usual so that's awesome and…" he trailed off. Sex was one thing, but he was hardly ready to admit to the long, lazy makeouts, the hand holding, and the butterflies all of it induced, or how Eren's smile made his stomach swoop and he was seeing it more and more often.

"Jean, you're smiling."

"It's great," Jean said, hiding his face in his hands. "It's really fucking great."

**Author's Notes:** Some of this is actually semi-autobiographical, based off some very real experiences from my first few years of college (the tequila and Nutella, drunkenly explaining my sexuality to a room full of very drunk straight kids on multiple occasions etc …) Sorry this really just ended up being me spouting a shit ton of headcanons for the gang in college. I'm such a sucker for cliché AU's, I am weak.


End file.
